for the love of
by cagalli-rox
Summary: Cagalli is the best assasin money could buy. Athrun is another assasin that costs only half her price his job is to make sure Cagalli does her job and then kill her but what if love happens to take place?
1. Chapter 1

Hey people I'm back, he he. I don't think I'll continue seeing the light cuz it's one of my best ideas and I want to be more certain which direction I want that story to go in so, yeah…. You may have read this book before but I'm just changing some details to make it gumdam seedish enjoy!

I woke up with a start at the hum of cracking ice. The thin plaintive noise forced my eyes open wide, but wisely my body stayed trained in position. I knew the winter chill had not yet finished its freeze on the lake, but by all my calculations (and my calculations were never wrong) my weight was not a threat. The hiding place I'd chosen was right on the edge of the inlet, under an overhang, tucked neatly from sight. It was one of the most solid freeze zones anywhere.

The sound was only the ice shifting, that's all. I steadied my breathing and cocked my head, so that my chin rested on the perilous mass separating me from the freezing Michigan waters.

I'd nodded off and I knew what to blame for the unforgivable lapse. Prescription medication for my migraine headaches and an empty stomach. Usually I don't take the pills unless I'm going to be somewhere I can lie down, but surveillance doesn't always work around my delicate schedule. It certainly hadn't on this assignment.

My cheap, waterproof Swatch watch said it was 4:37 a.m. on December 24th.

Christmas Eve and I was alone, in the cold with a headache freezing my butt off, watching a traitor to the EA.

Damn, it was cold.

Who in their right mind spent the night before Christmas perched precariously on a thin layer of ice hoping to get that life a little left of the law behind them free and clear?

Me.

Because this was it. This was that one last score that would push me over my mark and let me retire. For good this time. I'd sworn. No more late night calls that had me taking off at the drop of a hat. No more gutter bar meets and certainly no more fat, lecherous old men thinking they could do whatever they wanted since they held all the cards. Nope, I'd sworn this was it. This was my ticket out of the game.

Slower than a bear awakening from winter sleep, I adjusted the sights of my scope. I trained my eye down the tinted lens of my Burris so that I could watch Mue la Flauga (I have no idea how to spell his name), CEO of Herzenogc Corporation, emerge from the dilapidated old warehouse I'd been lying on the ice watching all night. His pudgy frame barely squeezed through the double door opening. Now, why was he in there all night? And just what would make the paranoid old recluse travel without his massive entourage? He had only one pair of his bodyguards with him.

The second question bothered me much more than the first. Old Mue was the man, or so it was said. He'd built Herzenogc from the ground up. Built it with the EA's money, that is.

"Thinking of running, Fatman?" Suppressing a grin at the image of him trying to run anywhere, I studied the layout. The impression wasn't favorable.

The only other soul I could make out was the driver. But he was a man bought and paid for by the EA, so he was of no consequence to me. I had no doubt the EA had already warned him that he might soon be working for another. Last night, I hadn't even had to sneak up to place the tracking device on the vehicle. As soon as La Flauga was out of the vehicle, the driver had locked himself in the car, turned up the radio, and just now reemerged.

I should've brought my gun, but I hadn't. I didn't want to risk an open shot. Not tonight. Not on Christmas Eve. Too many people would hear. The chance for gaining attention was too great. So, I'd left it in the back of my SUV. However, if I'd had the rifle and l eliminated La Flauga, the driver would take off and never look back. Those would be his orders, cut and run. I'd bet my life on it. No, it wasn't the driver who made me reluctant to return to my vehicle and get my rifle, but rather the two bodyguards I couldn't locate. They were there. I'd seen them enter the building behind La Flauga; just not come back out with him. Apprehension-laced ambition crept with dirty fingers along my spin. If La Flauga wanted to be alone with his bodyguards, he wouldn't have come all the way to the Wet Sector. Nor would he have gone into a building that wasn't his and hadn't been swept for devices. It didn't add up. What would have dragged a man so accustomed to posh out in the middle of the night to a meeting in the rundown, rat-infested, Wet Sector?

The information might well be worth more money to the EA than merely removing La Flauga. He'd been in that building most all of the night. No one besides his bodyguards coming or going. Someone important had to be inside. But who?

My heart plummeted. What if someone had come? Oh, the chance was remote, but the possibility remained that someone could have approached while I'd rested my eyes. I'd had them closed only briefly, but two and a half minutes might have been long enough for a companion to arrive, maybe drop off a package and leave. Or, what if La Flauga's partner was still in there?

Cags, old girl, you're getting sloppy. Damn good thing you're getting out of the business. Mistakes like this could get you killed.

It would do no good to expose myself and take out my target, if a larger, more important irritant waited in the building. This score had to be clean. No questions and no one else to haunt me. I wanted this job done, but not so badly that I'd risk having the EA on my tail.

I tried to list my options, but knew I had exactly zero. Even if, perchance, when I killed the fat bastard another target scuttled out into the open, I couldn't afford another shot before having to run. Leaving meant I'd have to recheck again. There wasn't time. The mystery guest might show, but I doubted it. Most likely La Flauga's death would scare his accomplice back into the nether reaches of the land called Loose Ends.

Loose ends were bad business.

I kissed the image of my retired body soaking up the sun in Orb, pina in hand good bye. Good dreams, but it would have to wait. Loose ends weren't just bad business…they were a deadly mistake. Being a female in a male-dominated profession afforded me zero room for error. Someone was always watching me, commenting on my skills. Where a man could possibly not do all of his research on a target, or know his quarry, if I made a mistake everyone knew. It was like living in a small town. Everyone talks about everyone else's business. Careful that was what I needed to be.

I'd wait. A full night of lying out in the cold would be chalked up to experience and intelligence but would not result in my kill. Nor would it get me my paycheck..

Damn! I'd have to contact the EA and inform them of the delay. They would not be happy. Slowly sliding into a sitting position, I stretched my neck and arms, hoping the prickliness would dissipate quickly. My clothing was warm but many hours ago the bone-numbing chill had crept past the heavy layers of silk long johns and flannel. L wanted nothing more than a long, hot bubble bath, a glass of my favorite pinot noir accompanied by Chopin's Ballad Number One or maybe Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The bubbles to engulf my body, the booze to thaw my heart, and the relaxing music to make me forget my life.

I carefully placed the Burris scope back in its travel case, and moved out from my hiding place. It was that magic hour of dawn when horizons blend, so I had adequate cover to exit to my car and formulate a plan.

Jingle Bells ripped through the still morning air just as I made it onto the runner's walk. Cursing with the finesse of a construction worker, I jerked the damn phone from my pocket. I thought I'd turned it to vibrate when I'd checked in with Shinn before heading to the warehouse. I must have knocked the button one too many times. The tune could wake the dead. I flipped the phone open. "Yeah."

"Cagalli, were you able to finalize our contract?"

"No, sir." I stared hard at the long black limousine shining in the distance, bitterness rising in my heart. La Flauga stood in the distance, searching the distant horizon. Could he feel me breathing down his neck? He'd sure as hell heard the phone. Could he feel my gaze? "it would appear there is a third party interested in our proceeding."

From this distance I didn't really need the scope, but I pulled the Burris out for one final look at the fatman. He stood there, sniffing the sky. Probably smelled a pastry shop. I gently put the scope back in the case. I'd modified the navy blue hard pack to look like a camera case. Modifications are my life. Tucking the sling strap over my shoulder, I snapped the lid shut and delivered the worst part of the news. "I'm holding off on finalization, pending further research on the new player."

Oh, he was angry. The hatred pulsed over the air waves, oppressive in the early morning stillness. "Very well, I suppose that is what we pay you for."

"Indeed." I refused to bite. "I'll contact you when I know further details." I hung up just as I heard a shot.

Hey people my first chapter plz review this time I know I said I'm too scared to read them last time but I kinda got over that. Besides most of you are nice… right?


	2. Chapter 2

Hey people I'm back! I'm trying to update as fast as I can k? Plz review. P.S. who is XxMEOWxMeWxX? And how did you know my name?!

"…Mary and Joseph!" On the ground in an instant, I reached under my heavy jacket for my 9mm but stilled my hand, not withdrawing the gun.

Think Cags. Think. The shot wasn't at you. Anything that close would have hit you. Don't give yourself away.

The limousine's tires squealed and left dirt clouding the air.

The fatman could hustle.

"Don't move," ordered a voice, all male and sexy enough to melt butter.

Me? Me, not move? Damn, someone was shooting a weapon in the near vicinity and I wasn't supposed to move? Like hell! I rolled over into a sitting position.

Good heavens! My mind was frozen. That had to be it. Seven hours in the cold had stopped all function but my libido.

There, towering in front of me, glaring down at me was roughly two hundred pounds of pure sex appeal. The man exuded pheromones. Shaking my head, I tried to look, really look at him. Throw my geared up V-8 into neutral and think! He couldn't be real.

The cold steel of the Glock looked real enough, the barrel pointed at my head. I could see his, but he couldn't see mine. That knowledge made me smile. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Are you alright?"

The morning sun was bright and growing steadily more so. I couldn't make out much about him other than his shape, which was mighty fine.

For a brief moment, he shifted his weight, blinding me with the dawning light. Yellow and orange polka dots burst across my vision. Still, something gave me the impression of limited facial hair, white teeth, and a grin powerful enough to stop the earth's rotation. He had to be real. He had to be. Not even my imagination was as good as his silhouette.

My training immediately registered all of the nonessentials. He was just a hair under 6'3", with dark hair, and the man was ripped like a boxer. Everything about the interloper lad my intuition screaming of danger, but my body breathed a long, low oh, yeah.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. I thought you might be in danger…or hurt."

"Danger?" Nice.

"That's right. After I heard that shot…"

Adonis had stepped from the pages of ancient text, into the dazzling dawn of Christmas. I hadn't been a good girl this year, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when the gift had a firm mouth begging to be explored. A Greek god sent from the heavens, delivered at my feet, to save me from danger…

But why draw on me?

Cocking an eyebrow, I said, "Heard a shot, did ya? You're the one who's got the gun."

He looked uncomfortable but tucked the Glock into its holster. "Sorry about that. Reflex."

My fingers itched to reach my pistol, but I hated to think of marring the handsome man's flesh. When I died and talked to God, how would I ever explain my ruining such perfection? Death, yes. Mayhem definitely. Those things I could justify, but damaging this rare creature who had me wishing for that warm beach and naked bodies rolling around in the soft, white sand was unthinkable. I pointed to the daggling pack housing my scope, feeling elated I didn't have the bulk of the rifle. If I had to run, I could do it. Adonis might put up a merry chase, but I knew I could definitely squeeze into spaces he couldn't. "I'm fine. I was just bird watching."

His gaze moved in the direction of the case. As his head turned, another blast of sunlight assaulted my eyes. Why couldn't the clouds oblige me, just this once, and cover the glaring light so I could get a decent look at my intriguing stranger? I was beginning to feel like a child who'd glared too long at the sun, everything tunneling with halos. Shutting my eyes, I attempted to blink past the dots and stars. The burning cold was making my ass numb. I needed to move. Get off the ground.

"Do you know where the shot came from?" I finally asked hoping to break the silence.

"Back that way a bit. It looks like someone climbed up that embankment."

Someone sure did. "Well, we'd better get out of here."

He didn't even shift his weight. He just stood there, tall shadowed, and intense.

Well, fine. He could stand and die. He had every right to play with his life, but who knew who else was out there, maybe on the same mark? If it was a cleaner, there was no way a witness would walk. I wanted out and fast. Maybe Adonis's life wasn't worth anything, but mine was. Thins contract was for a full million, and I intended to collect every last red cent.

I tried to stand, but a bolt of pain sang through my ankle. I looked down. It appeared to be swelling. Damn. Damn. Damn. That was the last time I was diving for cover on an uneven surface. How on earth had I managed to jack this up so completely, didn't even know.

"You're hurt"

"It would appear so, yes."

"We have to get some ice on that." He stepped close to me, heat radiation off his body, begging me to curl up next to him and purr like a kitten.

"We?" But I liked how he was thinking.

"I'm the closest thing you have to a savior. Ice would help."

Ice. Ice was the last thing I needed. Unless it involved and ice cube trailing down the hard length of his chest. No. No. Space, that was what I needed. Distance between me and the Greek god. But I couldn't keep from smiling. Hobbling toward the bike rack, I pried his fingers from my waist. "I can walk just fine."

Adonis shook his head. "Not real well you can't. And if you don't get that looked at, you might have a perma-limp. Is that what you're working toward?"

Debating how badly I wanted to answer that, I stood on legs as wobbly as a newborn colt. The sight might have been humorous under different circumstances, but I didn't relish the comparison. Since it was not a question of if I was going to crash, but rather how soon, I decided it had best be in the right direction.

Into him.

His dark jeans molded to well-muscled and defined legs that flexed at the impact of my body hitting his. The dropping, hand knit sweater and winter jacket framed broad shoulders, and right where my had hit, I felt the slight bulge of his gun.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his throat, through his chest, and right into my overzealous libido. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickled. The man was hot and making me hotter every second I clung to his body. My hand shook on his arm and I felt a flush spreading on my chest. Thank god for turtlenecks and layers.

"We'll get you taken care of. Come on. You can do it."

He cupped me under the shoulder, but before he could get a solid grip, I pushed him away. I'd just bed he could take care of a couple things. "That's right. I can do it." And have been doing it for years.

"O.K." He held his hands aloft, as if fending off a blow. "Let's go."

I fished in my pocket for my car keys. Mind-swipe, my suspicious mind whispered a reminder to me: Adonis had a gun. He was in the proximity when the shot was fired. He came upon me. He could be the other cleaner. If I let him walk me to my car, he'd know what I drove and my plate number. It would be and easy trace. My index finger brushed the cold metal teeth, but l let it pass right on by. "Do you have your keys? I must have lost mine back on the trail."

The silence stretched painfully for a moment as his dark emerald eyes measured me. I wasn't certain whether he liked what he saw. He wasn't giving anything away.

Several loud squawks and the rustle of feathers drew my attention. An early morning flock of geese took flight to our right.

"Does that mean no? Do I need to call a cab?" Patience was never my strong suit. I reached into my jacket front pocket, going for my cell.

"No they're right here." He stuck a had in his tight-fitting jeans, and his strong fingers came up holding a key chain with a gold medallion dangling from one end. I didn't need to touch or examine it to recognize Saint John of Capistrano, the patron saint of judges, jurors, and executioners. I knew every last ridge on the medallion. I should. I wore the same one around my neck.

The small disc served as my protector and prayer bead, all in one. It had been a rite of passage of sorts. My father gave it to me when I was thirteen.

Snatching the key ring from the handsome stranger before the memory could mire me in history, I asked, "which one?"

"Give me back my keys, vixen." He held out his hand

I dropped the key ring back into the plat of his palm. Nice hands. Strong hands. Long fingers, calloused but clean. They looked like hands that were used. Hands that would feel like heaven on my skin…

We'd made it as far as the recreation parking lot. There were two blue sedans and a red pickup. My car was parked in front of a deli two blocks over. I took a step and flinched. Two blocks might drive me insane; the damn ankle hurt.

"Which one?" When he didn't answer, I looked back. "Which car?"

"No car." He shook his head, a dark lock of hair falling over his eye. A light blue streak danced in the sunshine. "I was out walking. These are keys to my building."

There was and Audi key on the ring.

He sounded agitated. "Look lady, you watch birds, I walk. Force of habit. I'll answer any questions you have, but can we get moving? You're hurt, I'm cold and I live right there."

I followed his gaze to an apartment complex just on the other side of the parking lot. The tall brick building looked old, but comfortable. Sturdy. The grounds were well maintained, with trimmed shrubbery and fresh paint on the eaves. No small feat for a freezing Michigan winter. The cold was bitter, and that painting took a good deal of time. The owner was detail-oriented, with an eye for beauty, both qualities I admire.

He stamped his feet against the chill. His gaze shifted from me to the building, then back. "I swear, I will answer your questions."

I hoped he was up to the challenge. The man had asked for it with the invite to his home and to my questions. There was no way on earth I'd pass up that opportunity.

Positioning my shoulder under his and his arm around my waist, he propelled us forward. I enjoyed the feel of his corded muscles and, for a brief instance, the sensation of being cared for. The man took care of himself. How long had it been since I'd been aroused by a lover's touch, embraced by pure man?

Too long.

Take care of the business at hand, Cags. Fantasize on your own time. The wise part of my brain hissed.

I allowed him to assist me into the lobby. Two rubber plants dotted the corners. The entrance to the elevator was unassuming. An access pad stood out on the plain white wall. Along the southern wall there was a line of mailboxes and apartment call buttons. Other that that, the lobby was empty.

"I've got ice upstairs."

"Persistent little bugger, aren't you?"

He grinned and my stomach flipped. As Shinn would say dee-yam.


End file.
